Pause the guns

So much to be done in a small human space,
such turmoil within, without disgrace

If all that conformity needs us to be
a shingle in the roof that reality

Requires, to shelter us from rebels that fall
like plummeting lead shot, molten in balls

From within the time-ticking eye, we call sanity,
Pause for a while and think on it all

Were you wrenched from the womb to subsist?
or did you come, willing traveller, answering the call

To thrive, more than exist?
Caught in a madman’s' vision of pain

Don't let custom overwhelm, nor haul you
from that simple miracle, you became-

Nor believe the fraught voices, without, within,
you have nothing at all to explain

Just this thought: be good, at what you do,
and are - pure, gentle, lost but humane.